Between Two Billionaires

CHAPTER 1: SPARK

ELLA'S POV

Gotham Hall's grand entrance was transformed into a stunning backdrop for the noon's charity event. A huge step-and-repeat backdrop featuring the charity's logo and the names of sponsors took center stage.

I smoothened the front of my white gown. The rose braids interwoven into the fabric, caught the glistening lights as I walked along the paved ground. At twenty seven years, I hadn't yet gotten used to occasions like this — the glitter, affluence, the mode of the wealthy and all the paparazzi that came with it.

“Isla, I hope this works for the best,” I whispered into my phone, standing at the entrance.

"You have got to take a chill pill girl. You're Ella Sheffield for crying out loud,” Isla retorted. My best friend who I've known for 6 years.

I tucked a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. My grey eyes scanned the calibre of persons that were present, wealth and affluence personified as people were in attendance.

“Sure. I'm the one about to beg for money, aren't I?” 

Isla laughed at the other end. “Relax girl, you've got this,” she said.

I took a deep breath, clutched onto my purse and stepped in.

The theme of the event, “A DAY FOR ALL,” was reflected in every detail of the decor. Sparkling lights and star-shaped ornaments brought a charming vibe to the atmosphere.

I walked to my seat, taking in all the expensive fragrances that clouded my nose. 

I had memorized my speech. Wings for Kids. Hope, opportunity, the future. But standing there, watching the sea of wealthy faces present, I wondered if any of them actually cared.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the room fell silent. The emcee's voice boomed through the microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming today's keynote speaker, Ella Sheffield.”

The room erupted into applause, hitting me like a wave. I stepped onto the stage, lifted my chin and began.

“I am thrilled to be here tonight, supporting a cause that is close to my heart. As many of you know, Wings for Kids is more than just an organization - it's a beacon of hope for those who need it most.”

As I spoke, my eyes scanned the room. “Connect with your audience,”

That's what my manager told me. So I did.

And then my eyes locked onto his.

He sat in the VIP section, surrounded by his peers of like calibre — Ethan Hunt. His dark hair swept back, his ocean blue eyes shimmered through the dim lights. He wore a black suit, perfectly fitted. Our eyes met, his gaze locked onto me. I could feel his aura through the distance.

I almost faltered my next sentence,

“Focus Ella,” I cautioned myself.

“But our mission goes beyond that,” I continued. “We’re dedicated to nurturing the next generation of leaders, innovators, and change-makers. Every child deserves the opportunity to rise above their circumstances.”

“Let’s make a commitment tonight,” I concluded, my tone resolute, “A commitment to stand united, to uplift each other, and to never lose faith in our children’s potential. Thank you.”

The speech ended. I received a thunderous applause. “Well done,” I murmured to myself. I smiled gratefully, waved and stepped off the stage.

For the next couple of hours, I mingled. I received compliments, shook hands, and kept a steady smile amongst these rich folks.

Just then, I saw him again— Ethan Hunt. Ethan is a well known affluent figure in the city. As the CEO of Hunt Industries, he's indeed carved a legacy for himself. He was talking to someone, seemed to be having a lively conversation and I noticed for the first time how tall he was. How his presence commanded the space around him.

I was so distracted I didn't notice I had walked straight into him.

Thud! His drink spilled.

“Mister Ethan! I am so sorry, what have I done?” the words escaped my lips as I frantically tried to wipe the mess off his shirt.

You've got some on you too," He pointed out. A smile seemed to wound up on his face.

My face flushed with embarrassment. “Sir, please don't worry about me. I'm in trouble if my manager finds out I've done something this silly.”

“No need to worry, I was leaving anyway. Your manager won't find out. By the way, I didn't quite catch your name.” he replied, his face brimming with assurance.

“Ella Sheffield,” I answered.

“Your speech…lovely and yet powerful,” he said. “I'm glad I could support the cause.”

My cheeks felt warm, tucking a strand of my blonde hair behind her ear, my eyes met his, again. His blue eyes glimmered in the light. His smile was firm, up close he was even more striking.

“Thank you, sir. The organization would be grateful.” I added.

He chuckled. “No 'sir' necessary, just Ethan.”

As we stood together, I noticed his stare. Not in a creepy way— in a way that seemed to create butterflies in my belly.

He didn't notice he was staring, until the man behind him cleared his throat. His assistant, maybe. He was tall as well, leaner than Ethan, maybe thirty, with sharp dark eyes and black hair curled up. His suit was finely fitted. Norman, I learned later— Ethan's personal aide. But from the way he watched, I had a feeling he was more intimate than an assistant.

“No harm done. How about we meet up sometime and start afresh?” Ethan continued.

“Meet up? We?” I retorted, my brow furrowed in surprise. “It won’t be possible, sir. I’m sorry.”

His expression remained understanding. “No pressure, I get it. But just in case.” he said, pulling out his business card from his pocket and handing it over to me.

I hesitated, my eyes darting from the card to his face. I took the card, our fingers touching briefly. A spark of electricity ran through me.

“Thank you,” I said softly, still clutching onto the card.

He nodded. “No pressure, Ella. It's been fun conversing with you. Maybe someday we could continue.”

I smiled politely, “Maybe.”

“Ready to leave, sir?” Norman spoke. 

“Yes I am.” Ethan replied, casting a glance at him.

“Goodnight, Ella,” Ethan said, his voice low and gentle.

“Goodnight,” I replied, watching him disappear into the crowd.

As I stood there, I glanced at the card in my hand, Ethan’s contact staring back at me